More Than A Game
by William H. Bonnie
Summary: Arthur and friends are seniors at Elwood City and have survived the hell and the horrors of the ghetto. When it is announced that the school board is shutting down the baseball program due lack of funding, it's up to the team to make the final season one to remember.
1. Prologue

More Than A Game:

Arthur and friends are seniors at Elwood City. When the athletic program and potentially school are at risk of permanent shutdown, how will they survive?  
R&amp;R Rated T: Drama/Hurt/Friendship

Author's Note: First time writing a story here. I'm making a continuation of the story "The Rough Side of Elwood". Credit to Nastra1991 for the original idea. All characters from Arthur belong to Marc Brown.

Prelude: PTA Meeting (February 28, 2003)

The Elwood City Board of Education is having an emergency meeting to talk about the future of the athletic programs. Elwood City is not in the best neighborhood, and the economy took a very sudden downturn. This affected not just the elementary schools, but the high schools as well. Most students transferred out of the area into private schools and other area suburban schools. The Board President is coming up to the microphone to speak on the state of the schools.

Mr. Donald Sam takes the microphone and addresses the crowd.

"Can I have everyone's attention please?" The crowd of eighty quiets immediately. Mr. Sam begins to speak.

"Due to the amount of violence, unfortunately, we have had to cancel several sporting events in the area, including two of our boys' and girls' district championship games. The fans of the opposing teams do not feel safe in the area, even with an increased police force. I know that some of you are concerned with your safety and your children's safety when attending events."

"Yeah, no shit!" One of the parents yells out!

"People, please settle down." Sam speaks softly. "This brings me to my next point. Because of the dangerous area, not only have several events been cancelled or shortened, but our funding has been cut."

A hush falls over the crowd. What Mr. Sam was about to say next was only going to add fuel to the bad news fire. Elwood City offered football, soccer, and volleyball in the fall, basketball and wrestling in the spring, and baseball, softball, and track and field in the spring. It wasn't like the sports were unsuccessful, as the football team had won the city championship in 1996 and 1998 before the skilled players transferred to other schools, as did the coaches, and some of the managers, leaving the team with 23 players and two coaches. The team had won one game since 2001.

The soccer teams were below average, and the volleyball team went to the district final in 1999 before losing a 5-set heartbreaker to Clinton High School. The men's basketball team went to the regional final this year, despite the district title game being moved THREE times due to violence in the stands. The women's team made it to the regional title as well.

As far as the Track and Field teams, they won states in 2000 and 2001 and consistently placed well in districts. The baseball and softball teams were the ones that suffered the most, partly because equipment costs were high, and the school instituted pay-for-play fee of $75. There was talk of shutting down both teams, but somehow, they managed to field 9 or 10 players a year, but those players were not very good. Some of those players would not even make a JV or freshman squad at a suburban school. There had been rumors about cutting the athletic programs, even rumors about shuttering the whole school altogether, but those were just that, rumors. Was Mr. Sam serious this time?

"Because of the loss of our funding from state, we have had to cut the following sports: Football,  
softball and baseball. The reason being is because of the state that our facilities are in. We had to take the lights out of our field a few years ago because of the violence that occured in the stands and sometimes on the field, and the lack of interest in the program."

"Why can't we just recruit kids from other schools?" asked one concerned parent. "All the other kids were recruited from those proper white schools that took away our talent."

"The thing is, we're not allowed to recruit because we're a public school." said Mr. Sam.

"That's a bunch of crap. Just like the white man, taking away what the black man has worked so hard to gain." said the angry parent, muttering.

"I mean sure, we've had a rough go of it lately, but we did have a senior day, and we have kids that love the game of football. Why take that opportunity away from them?" asked a female whose son was a sophomore on the football team.

"It's simply due to the funding. Even if we had boosters to raise money for the program, we wouldn't have enough kids. And the equipment fees are too high to sustain." answered Mr. Sam.

"Now," continued Mr. Sam, "on to the next sports. We unfortunately have to cut the softball team due to lack of interest over the years."

Nobody really had a reaction because the team was not very good at all. They were losing games 30-0 ROUTINELY. They only had nine players last year and had to cancel the season because two players were suspended due to academic ineligibility. But when Mr. Sam announced baseball would be cut, all hell broke loose. Baseball was one of the sports that fans actually went to, mostly because they had nothing better to do.

"The baseball team is getting cut because of a lack of interest, the cost of equipment, such as gloves,  
bats, helmets, and transportation costs. Our team was only able to play 14 games, and 11 of those games were very far out in the suburbs. Even the teams close by did not want to come to our park and play us.  
We did get paid for our travel, but that's about it. We can't have a surviving baseball team with only 9 players."

"That's all we need! All it takes is nine players to make a team." shouted another parent.

"You would think that would be enough, but compare this to other schools. Most varsity squads have upwards of 15, 20, and 25 players on their roster. Others have that many on their JV and Freshman teams as well. We only had 15 players go out for the team alone. And 12 of them made the team, but only six were in good academic standing. We had to forfeit three games due to lack of players. And there just isn't a lot of interest. The money needs to go into academics. If we can't get off the ground academically, then we will have to close the school."

"Oh hell no!" shouted someone else.

"This news does not come on a pleasant note. I would like to thank everyone for attending today's meeting.  
Let's try to make the most of the time we have here. Have a great day." Mr. Sam steps down and walks away from the table.

And that was it. The school was already in dire need for funding, and cutting sports, which kept the good kids, and even some of the bad kids out of trouble, was not going to help matters.

To be continued...


	2. The Announcement

POV: Arthur

"Another day at this hellhole." I sighed as I walked into the building.

I couldn't wait for this summer, but then again, neither could these bad-ass kids. At least in a month, I wouldn't have to worry about this shit. I played baseball for the team. Baseball was my temporary escape from all the pain and struggle that I was dealing with. My mom had lost her job as an accountant because someone accused her of a crime she didn't even commit. Now she worked minimum wage at McDonalds, struggling to pay bills.

My dad was still catering, but working 12 hour a day shifts. I barely saw him, but I knew why he did it. So that me, DW and Kate wouldn't have to sell drugs. DW is in the 8th grade, and she's pretty smart, hell, she's one of the smartest students in the middle school. Kate is in 7th grade, even though she's only 11 years old because she's smart as hell too. My sisters are gonna be doctors or lawyers one day.

I couldn't wait to play baseball this year with Francine, Buster, Brain, and hell, even Binky and Molly. I remember when Binky used to barely go to class, but after being held back a grade, and doing time in the juvenile detention center, he decided to turn his life around, and now he's on the honor roll. Molly was one of the best players on the team last year, up there with Francine. She could throw in the upper 70s, which was pretty awesome for a girl, but had very little control. Francine was even good enough to be on the all-conference team.

Buster played third base and shortstop and was a decent player, at best. But he was the fastest runner on the team, so we could count on him to steal some bases, but he also got caught stealing just as much. Binky was the power hitter on the team, if you gave him a fastball, otherwise he couldn't hit worth a damn. Brain, obviously, was the smartest player on the team. He played outfield and pitched. If you needed to learn how to throw, he would teach you, no questions asked. He was also one of the most tactical pitchers we had.

And that's all we had. We had to forfeit our playoff game because half our team was academically ineligible. Which is a shame because even though they weren't very good, we needed them because we needed nine players, simple as that. Hopefully we can get enough players to come out for this year's team. I'm tired of going to Glenbrook, Martinstown, Wallace, and Jefferson and getting run ruled every goddamn game. I want to beat those teams' asses and strike out every player on that goddamn team. I want to win the league. No, I want to win STATES. I want our team on the MAP. I want our story to be written in ESPN magazine. I want there to be a movie made about our lives, and how much we pushed through and overcame our circumstances and struggles.

"What's up Buster?" I dapped up Buster as I walked into Mr. Jensen's classroom.

"Not much dude. Couldn't sleep last night." said Buster.

"Thinking about that test?" I asked.

"Yeah. I hope the material from the review is on the test." sighed Buster.

We took the test, and the rest of the day went smoothly for once. Then 3pm came. I met up with Francine, Molly, Buster, Binky and three other people.

"Hey man what's up?" said a tall, black guy named Tim.

"What's up dawg? You goin' out for the baseball team this year?" Brain asked.

"Yeah, man. I'm pumped!"

"Awesome! We need some players this year. We gonna have a squad! Who are these guys?"

"This my homie Trevell, and my homie Daquan."

"What's up guys? Welcome to the team."

"What you talking about Brain? We ain't made the team yet!" laughed Trevell.

"Well, once Coach sees you guys, y'all gonna make the team. Let's get in the gym before we miss the meeting."

We all got inside coach's office. Coach Mitchell was one of the best coaches of any sport in this building. Even when the team got our asses kicked almost every game, he never snapped at us, made us run extra laps, or any of that shit. He understood the circumstances we were in. If there was something we could have done, best believe it would have been done.

Usually, Coach Mitchell greeted us with a smile on his face and excitement about the upcoming season. But he looked very concerned when called us into his office. Once everything was settled, he started to speak.

"Attention guys, I have some bad news for you. I was at the board meeting last night, and the Board of Education has decided that they are gonna cut the baseball team effective after this season, due to lack of funding."

A hush fell over the room. Everybody was stunned.

"Are you serious? They can't do that to us!" said Molly.

"Why are they doing this to us?" asked Buster.

"I was told that it was due to the lack of interest." Mitchell said flatly.

"Lack of interest? What the hell are they talking about?" asked Molly angry.

"They said that we have no funding this year, and we're likely not gonna have any funding for the next few years, so they have to cut some sports. They're cutting the football and the softball team for the same reason. It's severely difficult to field a team with no funding and no boosters. So I'm afraid that this year is gonna be our last together." said Mitchell disappointingly.

"Well, we gotta get some people out for the team this year." said a determined Francine.

"Yeah, but how?" asked Brain. "Everybody either plays basketball or football. Why would they want to join our team?"

"Why not? Weren't you listening to the man? We need some people to play or else we'll have no team." said Francine.

I could always count on Francine to speak the truth about anything. When she got older, she kept her competitiveness, but didn't get mad about anything unless provoked. But she was right. We needed more than nine players if we were gonna even think about putting in work this year.


	3. Spring Break

Spring break came and went. It was just a break from school. Nothing more, nothing less. Ever since coach's announcement that the baseball program was gonna be shuttered at the end of the year, we all went out and tried to get as many people to try out for the team as possible.

It wasn't easy. The football players had no interest in trying out, and I damn sure wasn't going to ask one of the gang members to play either. Most of the basketball people had no interest. Especially Wayne Jackson, one of the best players in our grade. He was able to get a full ride to Duke as long as he kept his grades up. He and and the four other senior players were going off to college to play basketball and didn't want to "risk injury".

The juniors weren't interested in playing either, because they were focused on their senior year, and one of them was hoping to jump straight into the NBA from high school. We were, however, able to get Trevell and Daquan, both sophomores, Tim, a junior, and Buster got one of his friends, Jamal, who played football. And that was it. All we had was a total of 11 players.

I hoped that the team we had would be at least decent enough to compete with those suburban teams, if not beat them. I'm tired of getting blown out 25-0 every damn game. It was embarrassing as hell to travel far as hell away to get our asses handed to us. The one positive thing was that at least they fed us and paid us for traveling. But it was obvious they were doing it just to be nice, and really didn't give a rats ass about us because our team was from the hood.

It just didn't seem right that it would be our last year playing ball together. We had been playing ball since we were kids in the street. It was our way out of the ghetto, and the board was taking it away because of those knuckleheads who couldn't act right during our basketball games? That was fucked up. But the sad thing is there was nothing we could do about it. One would think that even with increased security, that they would act right for once, but it just made them get even more violent, and the end result was no baseball for us.

As far as Spring Break, all I did was go to my grandma's house for a few days, and that was it, and I watched a bit of the NCAA Tournament too. I spent the majority of my time there just listening to music. I didn't really go anywhere or do much outside of that, except bide my time and wait for the season to start. March 24 couldn't come soon enough. It was the first of two days of tryouts. Usually, other schools have offseason workouts and weeks of tryouts, and also have 40-70 kids trying out every year. But we did things differently.

Our routine went like this: We had two days of tryouts, then uniform handout, then a couple of days of practice before our first game, which was gonna be on March 31st. That gave us very little time to gel as a unit, on the field and off. If we didn't come together, it was gonna be a very short season.

I'm determined to get back on that baseball field and play out my last year like I have never played before. We may be from the hood, but we're not gonna play like it this year. Not if I can help it, Francine can help it, Binky, or anybody else.


	4. The Reason

A/N: All lyrics are from Train of Thought by Reflection Eternal, 2000.

Buster's POV

The two days of tryouts went okay. One the first day, we were supposed to have 15 players come out for the team, but three of them got suspended because they got in a fight, and another two were academically ineligible, including Jamal. Which is a shame because he could hit really well. Until he got his grades up, we had to roll with the 10 people that came to tryouts.

Even though we only had 10 players, we moved as a unit. We warmed up as a team, we threw, caught, and ran in sync as a team. Hell, we even prayed as a team, and we rarely pray for anything. Except to get out of the ghetto and live to see another day. We practiced in the gym until 7 in the evening.

The next day, we had the same 10 players that came out on day 1, but we spent two hours in the hitting cage. Francine, Arthur, and I hit line drives like usual. Binky and Tim, the sluggers, also hit really well. For every good hit someone had, everybody applauded. We also worked on our baserunning too. I'm one of the fastest players on the team, and when I stole home, I didn't get too high about it, I just remained humble, because it's what I do.

It was great for us to play together again after the long, cold-ass winter. There were no egos, no trash-talk, no pushback, none of that. We all had the same dream, to do work, and to leave our mark on this school.

But that wasn't the most important reason I wanted to do well this season.

I wanted to do well so I could prove to my father that I could do something with my life. I barely saw my dad at all. We talked every now and then, but he was a pilot for a commercial airline and he flew around the country, and last I heard, he had a hot new girlfriend who was only a few years older than I was. One night, while eating dinner, my mom joked that his "erectile dysfunction" was the reason that they broke up. Then I asked, if he couldn't "get it up", how come I was born? Then she leaned into my ear and said: "I poked a hole in his condom." I was shocked at first and couldn't believe that mom did something like that, but then she said: "You'll thank me, honey."

To this day, I'm glad I was born. I used to be a real fat-ass. I used to eat everything and anything in sight. I made trips to the fast-food joints like I was going to the bank. But everything changed when I was 12. That Easter, my uncle had a serious stroke and now he's permanently paralyzed on the right side of his body. It was because all he did was eat fatty foods all day long, and it eventually took a toll on his heart and the rest of his arteries. From that day forward, I decided to change my eating habits, because I didn't want to end up like that myself. I ate more fruits and vegetables and worked out when I could. I worked out in my room of course because my hood is not the type of place to go on a jog, or that jog may be your last, with all the damn hoodlums ruining the city and the housing projects.

Speaking of the housing projects, they never got any better. One time, it got so bad that we didn't get mail for three weeks because the mailman wouldn't even come through here. Every time he tried to come, a pit would come after him and chase him down the street. My mom was served with an eviction notice and our lights and water were shut off because of that. Thankfully, our landlord is not an asshole, and understood our situation.

It was my escape from my sorry-ass life. Arthur, Molly, Brain, Binky, and the others were my homies, and despite all the shit we've been through, all the fights we've witnessed, we're still here to this day. And this year is gonna be our year. Nobody was gonna take that away from us.

It was late at night and I was tired as hell. I laid in my bed and turned on "The Blast" by Reflection Eternal and became one with the song as the soft rain fell outside my window and I slowly fell asleep...

[Hi-Tek]

I remember when it all started

Back in the day when me and moms first parted

Hi-Tek from the beginning I stayed advanced

A young chameleon - adapt to any circumstance

Peep game n*gga, never been a lazy n*gga

Stayed on my hustle, concentrate to get the paper bigger

Stay focused while other cats stay hopeless

While n*ggas stay high I stay lower,

Stacking my chips to get a foreclosure, this sh*t ain't over

Going for the gusto, keep getting that provo,

It's Hi-Tek (and Kweli) on the track like Flo Jo,

bet you ain't even know I had flow though

Start the party, my crew hot feel these two shots

Like the blast from a double barrel shottie (shottie)

It's got to be, your man Hi-Tek and Kweli

Who make you rock your body (body)

Keep on dancing, ya gotta keep on dancing

(Overlapping) oh oh ohhhhhh, yeah yeahhhhhhh


	5. Go Hard Or Go Home

Francine POV

The days seem to be shorter when baseball season is around the corner. Baseball is one of my favorite sports ever, besides basketball, hockey, and football. I've played it since I was a young child. Back then, I used to play stickball in the streets with the corner kids. Being the only girl there, I impressed a lot of the boys when they saw my ability to hit the ball and run faster than them.

My dad also played baseball as a kid. He also played in college, before he got hurt and my mom got pregnant with Catherine. Every now and then, I would watch the Pittsburgh Pirates play. They haven't been good since I was really young, in fact, they've been downright terrible. But still, I dream of being the first girl to play Major League Baseball. I would be better than any shitty player on that roster right now.

But first, I have to get out of this hellhole. Baseball is my escape from the ghetto. I tend to be a really competitive person, and that can rub some of the guys the wrong way. But it's just who I am.

My parents and sister have supported me ever since I made the decision to play at 10 years old. It wasn't easy for either of them to drive far away to watch me play, but I played my best and made it worth their while. Plus, it kept me out of trouble. My favorite position is the outfield, but I like to pitch as well. I have a decent fastball and a great knee-buckler of a curve.

I'm one of the best players on the team, and that's saying a lot, considering we can barely get a team together half the time. But this is it. My senior year. Time to shine. Time to give them hell.

I walked briskly to coach's office, excited as all hell, even given what I had heard just weeks ago. I dapped up Francine, Buster, Binky, and the rest of the players on our team. Coach called us into his cramped office to give us the news.

"Hello everyone!"

"Hey coach!"

"I have the schedule of teams we'll be playing this year. Take one and pass it around."

I looked at the schedule, which went like this:

March 31 at Bellbrooke 12/2

April 2 at Washington Heights 4

April 3 Washington Heights 4

April 5 at Davidson 11/1

April 7 at Robinson 4

April 8 at Jefferson 5

April 11 at Glenbrook 5

April 12 at Mandalay/Tyndall 11/3

April 15 Loudon 4

April 16 Wallace Tech 4

April 19 Glenbrook 11

April 24 at Jamestown 4

April 25 at Fredricksburg 5

April 29 Roosevelt 4

May 2 at Roosevelt 12

May 5 Jefferson 4

May 8 Robinson 12 (Senior Day, then Prom)

Playoffs start May 12th

I was shocked that we actually had more than two home games this year. Usually teams don't want to come to our ballpark. And I wouldn't blame them either. Our field was in such poor and decrepit shape that nobody did any maintenance on it whatsoever. Back in the day, there was a guy that looked after the field, and tended it very well, but he died a few years ago. The city doesn't really do much for the park either. It pretty much sits and rots, like an old stadium. One time, when we went to clean up the outfield grass for a community project, we found broken beer bottles, needles, condoms, and God knows what else. But, we actually found someone to look after the field this year.

Another reason that not very many teams came to our field was because at one point or another, some of the home games we did have had to be stopped because the police were chasing dopeheads, cokeheads, bad-ass kids, you name it through our field, or there was gunfire close by. Our games were either postponed or moved to a safer area. One time, a couple years ago, we had a game cancelled because somebody ran through the outfield with a knife.

The infield had weeds all throughout home plate and the baselines. The dugouts had a wooden bench on each side and that was all. No place to put helmets, bags, or any of that modern stuff that most dugouts at other stadiums had. And forget playing past 7pm. That's when the hoodrats and gangbangers came out and did their thing.

After looking at the schedule, Coach Mitchell went over some housekeeping things like playing with honor, not doing drugs or smoking, not starting fights with other teams, and having respect for our opponents. When the man talked, everybody listened. I wish he was the principal instead of Mr. Haney, who seemed to cave to everything. He coached for over 20 years and saw it all. If you had a problem, coach listened to you. He gave the best advice on damn near everything.

As far as our team goes, thankfully, we had enough players to have one. Some of my teammates were envious of the other schools, which had varsity squads of 15-20 players, and junior varsity and freshman teams. I didn't care any of that stuff. As far as I knew, our field had three bases and home plate, an infield and outfield, it was 60 feet, 6 inches from the mound to home, and there were nine players on each team.

That's all. They were no different than we were.

We just had to be more driven this year.

To Be Continued...


	6. The Time Is Now

A/N: All lyrics are from Stillmatic by Nas, 2001.

Arthur's POV

(alarm ringing)

I shut the alarm off as quick as I could. Today was a Saturday, but it was the most important Saturday of my life, besides my birthday. It was our first game of the regular season. I was excited and nervous as hell at the same time. I just couldn't wait to get on that baseball field.

After I got out of the shower, I put on my baseball uniform, the uniform that we had for about fifteen years. It was a green jersey with ELWOOD on the front in yellow lettering, and my jersey number 11, on the back. The jerseys kind of reminded me of the Oakland Athletics, one of my favorite teams. I went into the kitchen and saw my dad cooking up a storm.

I mean, he laid it out. He had eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes, you name it. I sat down next to my dad, and across from my mom and my two sisters.

After we said a prayer, we dug in to the tasty food.

"Good luck this morning son. I heard you have the big baseball game today. Sorry I won't be able to make it." said my dad, who looked his usual tired self, probably from working so hard in the kitchen. "You gonna hit a home run for me today?"

"I'll try my best, sir."

"Go out and there and do your best, honey. We're very proud of you. Most kids your age are usually out smoking weed or something, but you and your friends found a way to stay out of trouble. Go out there and give 'em hell, son," said my Mom, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks Mom. I know you're busy working, Dad, but are you and DW gonna come to the game today?"

"I would, but I have to work again, and D.W. has a huge school project that's due in a few days."

"I got these big ass orders to Pittsburgh I have to take care of." said my Dad. "And I have to leave in a few minutes." He got up from the table, kissed my mom on the cheek, then headed out the door.

"Arthur, big brother, I'm pulling for you. I hope guys win today." said DW, finishing up her cereal.

"You can do it Arthur. I'm counting on you." said my youngest sister Kate.

"Thanks guys." I finished what I had on my plate, gave my mom a kiss and my dad and sisters a hug and then I headed downstairs, baseball equipment in hand.

The building I lived in had gotten a little bit better, but not very much. There was still the same old shootings and fights, like on New Years Eve, where we all had to go to bed at 10:00 because they started shooting and didn't stop until around 5am. They did this shit every year and it was annoying.

But who was gonna stop them? The police wouldn't help because the city didn't have enough officers due to the budget cuts. The sheriff's deputies only came when things got really bad, but by then, someone was already hurt, shot, or killed.

The one thing that was actually kind of great about the place was that Mr. Charles was no longer around. A few years ago, he got arrested for harassing some other kids who lived in our building, and he had a huge meth problem. Last I heard, he was doing 20 years upstate because he got in a fight with one of the sheriffs. Our old super, Mr. Morris had passed on a few years ago, but his nephew came down to run the building, and he takes no shit from anyone, just like Mr. Morris did. He and some of his partners helped fix the place up so that it was at least decent-looking.

I walked out and saw the white van we used to travel to every game. It was an old van, but it got us from point A to point B, and was better than having nothing at all.

"Hey Arthur, hop on in." Coach Mitchell welcomed me as I got to the back of the van with my other nine teammates. The van was packed as hell, but we couldn't afford a bus, so this was our only option. As we made our way out of the ghetto, and onto the main road, and then to the highway, I spotted a drug deal going down. But I wasn't about to say anything. Not after that one incident a few years ago.

Usually, we would be constantly chattering about what happened and who got in what fight and who got suspended, but the ride was silent. Either my teammates were sleeping or they were focused on the task ahead.

As we reached the highway, I pulled out my iPod to listen to the song "One Mic" by Nas, who is one of my favorite rappers of all time.

[Nas]

This is my hood, I'ma rep to the death of it

'Til everybody come home, little n****s is grown

Hoodrats, don't abortion your womb, we need more warriors soon

Sip from the star, sun and the moon

In this life of police chases, street sweepers and copters

Stick up kids with no conscience, leavin' victims with doctors

If you really think you ready to die, with nines out

This is what Nas is 'bout, n**** the time is now

Yo, all I need is one mic

All I need is one mic...that's all I need

All I need is one chance. One try. One season.

Starting today.


	7. The Season Begins

Brain's POV

We got out of the cramped minivan focused like never before. It wasn't all fun and games

this season. It was time to put in work. We got to the dugout, which was one of the nicest

dugouts we've seen. Everybody put their helmets above our bags and their cleats on. We jogged

together as a unit from foul pole to foul pole. The other team looked at us, and I heard them

snickering at us as we were doing our pregame workout. We paid them no mind though.

Coach gave me the ball to start the season off. Me and Binky started warming up. The ball felt

great coming out of my hand. The first pitch was a fastball. My next pitch was a changeup. Over

the winter, I added a slider and a curveball. As far as my fastball, I can throw it in the mid

70s. The rest of my pitches were in the mid 60s.

I finished my warmup tosses to see coach Mitchell hitting infield and outfield practice. We did

not look too good. There were missed balls, overthrown balls, and underthrown balls. While standing

off to the side, I saw the pitcher from Bellbrooke. He looked like one of those generic big kids,

but he threw fast. Faster than Francine even. Around the mid 80s.

When we got off the field, Bellbrooke took warmups, and they looked crisper than us. They looked

like they had been doing it for years. I bet that they were licking their chops thinking this game

would be a run-rule.

After the warmups started the national anthem. And then the game was due to start soon. It started

drizzling a little, but we were just as amped up as they were. Our starting lineup went like this:

CF Buster Baxter #9

3B Arthur Read #11

2B Trevell Hamilton #2

C Binky Barnes #14

P Alan Powers #10

SS Francine Frensky #1

RF Molly McDonald #6

1B Tim Henderson #18

LF Daquan Roberts #2

Bench

Trevell Douglas #7

Their pitcher took warmups and we studied him intently, like an exam. This guy was a sophomore righty,

but was throwing like a college pitcher. Francine, Buster and Binky didn't look too rattled, but the

others were murmuring and marveling.

Coach Mitchell called us in the dugout before the game. "Hey guys. Bring it in real fast.

This is opening day. How do y'all feel?"

"We ready!" said Trevell.

"We feel good!" screamed Daquan.

"I want you guys to out there and give it your all. Don't let the size of their roster or the speed

of their pitches rattle you. Make a game of it. Have fun out there!"

We huddled, then Francine said: "I want to hear some noise in this dugout. Like coach said, let's make

a game of it and go hard. Grebes on 3, 1, 2, 3, GREBES!"

Buster Baxter stepped in the box and the pitcher went into his windup and delivered a strike.

Just like that, the final season was underway.


	8. Play Ball!

Arthur POV

After taking infield-outfield, and standing on the first base line for the national anthem, we gathered around Coach Mitchell, and he told us to take the two games one inning at a time and to win every inning. He wanted us to do what it took to win the game.

It felt so good for the season to finally start. I was excited and nervous as hell to get in the batter's box. I saw Buster at the plate, and everyone wanted him to make contact, but didn't help much by striking out looking on the next two pitches. This gave me no time to gather my thoughts in the on-deck circle before I had to step up to the plate.

"How's he looking, Buster?" I asked.

"Fast. That's all I can say." said Buster, walking back to the dugout.

The Bellbrooke kid stared in, then delivered his pitch. It was a strike on the outside corner. I usually take the first pitch of every at bat so that I can feel out what the guy has. I don't just go swinging at the first pitch like half the team does.

His next pitch was a changeup, and I barely got a piece of it. Now I was down 0-2. But not for long. He threw the changeup again, but missed outside. He then threw the fastball, but missed high. Now, the count was 2-2. If I could somehow draw a walk or get a hit, we could get some momentum started.

But he fired the next pitch down the middle, and I couldn't get the bat off my shoulder in time. He did virtually the same thing to Trevell, but he gave Trevell three outside fastballs, and he went down swinging on all three of them to end the inning.

Then we jogged out to our positions, determined to hold them off the board, so that we could get back in the dugout to create some momentum. Hopefully Brain wouldn't give them anything good to hit today, because I had a feeling that we could hang with this team, and possibly beat them, if the breaks went our way.

Brain POV

I stepped out to the mound and got in my usual groove, throwing pitches like in warmups. It helped that I had the rock, Binky Barnes, behind the plate catching for me.

Nothing would get past him. The first batter stepped into the batter's box, a right hander who was pretty good, and who I heard was getting recruited by some college somewhere in New York. I gave him a fastball, but it just missed the corner. My next pitch came out flat, and the kid jumped on it, taking it over the wall in left field, putting us in a 1-0 hole.

Then the next two batters got on, on the next two pitches I threw, a fastball, and a sinker. Now, there were runners on 1st and 2nd. I was flustered as hell on the mound. These dudes came to play, and weren't messing around. Coach Mitchell called for time, and came out to the mound to ask me if I was alright.

"You good, Brain?"

"Yeah. I'm good. Just gotta shake this rust."

"Fight back, man. Don't let them get to you." Mitchell patted me on the back and walked back to the dugout. I had to fight back before this game got out of hand. Their next batter was one of the top hitters in the league last year. I had to work around him so that he didn't take me out of the park. Binky called for me to throw a sinker outside, which is what I did.

The batter fouled it off, and I was ahead in the count. Then Binky spotted up inside, which is where I was gonna put the heater. He fouled that pitch off as well. I needed to find a way to win this battle and get him out, no matter what it took. Binky spotted a fastball up. A waste pitch. I nodded, then complied, but the batter swung like a dumbass and missed very late. His coach scowled at him as he walked back to the dugout. There was one out, but I was nowhere out of the woods yet. In fact, my trouble was just beginning. I ended up hitting the next batter by throwing too far inside on him, loading the bases. Then the batter afterwards hit a groundball to Francine, who stepped on second, but didn't make the throw to first in time, and the second runner scored.

Despite this, I got out of the inning by striking the next kid out looking on a fastball over the inside corner, keeping our deficit at 2-0. Hopefully we could get some runners on, get them over, and get them across the plate, because the game was still early.


	9. The Results

Binky's POV

Alan was looking all kinds of rough out there on the mound. It was 2-0 prior to the start of the inning, but they got hip to his fastball and were trying to go for the jugular. I jogged out to the mound and brought the whole infield in and told them to dig deep and not let anything get past them. The next kid up had hit a line drive at Alan earlier, but he caught it, saving us (and himself) in the process. Behind the plate, I called for a sinker inside, and Alan threw it in the dirt, and I had to take action to block it. Then, Alan threw a fastball high, and the batter didn't swing, so he fell behind in the count. Then I called for another fastball, but it was flat, and the kid's eyes lit up, and he drove the pitch over the left field wall for a grand slam, ending the game. Brain was frustrated, but I let him know that he pitched great, they just adjusted to him.

Francine's POV

We eventually ended up losing 10-0, even though Brain pitched his heart out. We ate some food the other team's parents prepared for us, and it was good, but it wouldn't be as good as the taste of victory that I wanted. For the next game, I was to take the mound, and I was excited to get the opportunity to mow those kids down with my fastball.

The game started about 10 minutes later, and everything stayed the same, including the order, except that Trevell was at shortstop, and Alan was on the bench. The problem was that we had no offense whatsoever, and their right handed pitcher, a senior, was blowing fastballs by us quicker than we could react. When I stepped to the mound, and the first batter took my fastball to right field for a triple, it was all downhill from there. The kids batted around and by the time the inning was over, we were down 9-0. I then gave up two more runs before coach Mitchell pulled me for Buster. He limited the damage, but they still scored runs, and run-ruled us 13-0 after four innings.

"Well, we had a rough go of it, but I want to say that I'm proud of you guys, especially our pitchers, for digging in and not being intimidated. I want you guys to go home, eat up, and rest, and let's get back at it in a few days." said Coach Mitchell.

We then packed up our belongings and headed back to Elwood City. It started raining along the way as Coach dropped off the players one by one. I got out of the car and headed up to the apartment to greet my parents, who were curious to find out how the game went.

"How was the game, sweety?" asked Laverne Frensky.

"We lost both games by run rule."

"That's okay. That team is really good. I'm sure you're gonna kick some ass in the next couple games."

"If we even play. I think it's supposed to rain, and our field doesn't hold water very well."

"Well, Frankie, you gotta think positive. Things happen. I saved some food for you."

"Thanks Mom."

I ate some food, then went straight to sleep. Today was a long day, and the week ahead was gonna be a long week. Hopefully we could turn this around before it's too late.


End file.
